Emerald Mystery #fieryverse

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2300049-emerald-mystery.mp3]

 

Kings and queens

Of the mounds

A mighty race

Lost underground

Shifting

Through

The history

Of the vast green

Velds of the Éire

The people

Of the Sidhe

Live on

Unfaded

From history

Forever sheathed

In emerald fire

In mystery

On the

Emerald Isle


The Wooded Realm Pt5

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2232849-the-wooded-realm-pt5.mp3]

 

Ven huddles, looming shadows at her back.
Flames fan her face, but warm soothment they lack.
Her history, long hid from her, feels black.
As the crone tells on, Ven’s surety cracks..

 

“I was there, waiting, at your very birth.

With dust of coal and purest blood of earth,

I marked you true, as the fates demanded.

T’was I that named you, as they commanded.”

 

She pauses now, staring into the fire,

She whispers how, “It were my heart’s desire.

To be led to choose gives one regency,

In the eyes of the gods, ascendancy.”

 

Quickly, her hooded eyes alight on Ven,

“For you to know the scope, you must listen.

The magic draws you on undoubtedly.

Destiny you must endure, fearlessly.”

 

With raised brow, Ven hesitantly questions.

The hag replies, “Follow my directions-

A simple spell will send you to your fate.

Just listen my deary, and contemplate..”

 
Where will this wind our girl, what fate mentioned?


The Wooded Realm Pt4

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2232843-the-wooded-realm-pt4.mp3]

 

Having run, Ven finds herself in danger-
Caught and held in the grip of a stranger,
Who retains long sought answers within her.
What do secrets cost, what is their nature?

 

Freed of hands, bound by curiosity,

Ven crouches, awaiting veracity.

From this ag-ed, bent and gnarled figure.

This small, seemingly frail, warted creature.

 

“Who is it you claim to be-” Ven starts,

At the crack of a smack, her cheek smarts.

“You’d be wise to hold thy tongue,” the crone growls,

“For flapping lips do quickly run afoul.”

 

“Your story, my child, began long ago.

When stars ran aground and their magic flowed.

In my veins runs the gift of prophecy,

And ages past your name came unto me.

 

“With mine own eyes I beheld your squalling.

Glimpsed your future darkly with my calling.

To your parents I went, ‘fore them I told –

She must be named and marked as I was bode!”

 

Ven’s tale winds on with a magical bend.

 


The Wooded Realm Pt3

Our maid, wayward, what should we make of this?
A queen to be, a whole kingdom’s promise…
Will she lay crown, scepter, aside, remiss?
What of the questions that still lie amiss?

 

Casting off her reign and duty, Ven runs-

To shouted commands, and knight’s halting drums.

Off into the woods she sprints, no remorse,

Unable to take demanding recourse.

 

Deep and deeper in forest she finds her

Long legs pumping, she bounds ever further.

Till with a great shriek! She falls to a halt,

‘Fore a bone-built altar, a deathly vault.

 

On knees, hands in hair, in daunting terror,

Ven cries aloud, but is caught in measure.

A hand screens her mouth, tightly binds her screams.

“I’ll tell you all,” a rough voice softly teems..

 

“You and I are bound,” the voice continues,

“It were You I called, and you my venue,

Marked at birth by mine own hand, be glad girl!

For the fortunes would have your faith unfurl!”
Who binds our queen, what does this now portend?


Give up

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2173760-give-up.mp3]

 

I give up

Why should I try

Any longer

Constantly

I’ve been weighed

Measured

Found wanting

Worthless

Worth less

Than a word

An effort

My mistakes

Are too fucking great

To ever forgive

Apparently

 

I am flawed

And faulted

I am needed

And wanted

But at the end of the day

Fuck me

I’m thrown away

For mistakes

That could not

Be forgiven

All that I

Have given of myself

Is not enough

To love

 

I can’t keep trying

I won’t

It hurts

To be left

So broken

By yet another

Who has spoken

All those words

Of love and support

That I needed to hear

Someone whose heart

I held so dear

Who finds it so easy

To just

walk

away

 

Through all

That we’ve been through

Trials

Fucking tribulations

And I was always there

I always showed

I care

But yet again

I’m just a whore

Just more trash

Worth nothing more

Than a hurtful

Hateful

Parting word

 

Why do I try

Why do I care..

 

Throw your words at me

My dearest friend

Let me know

How far

You’d go to end

All that we have built

Then let your silence

Fucking silt

My soul

I have nothing more

I have nothing more

I have nothing more

Than all that I have given

All that I have meant

 

That turns out to be

Too fucking little

Once again

 


Highs and Lows – #SonnetSunday

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2173683-highs-and-lows.mp3]

 

So easy to get caught up in something

That resembles happiness for a time.

The exchange of emotions and true minds,

Of love unchecked, no regret ensnaring.

 

Yet never far is the abject torment

The loss and longing, the fear of being-

Rejected, dismissed, a soul left unseen,

To drown in despair long left to ferment.

 

These ever present highs and lows, although

Seen from the outside may look a mite mad.

To a tender heart are lessons best had.

For grace and sorrow both help us to grow.

 

In the depths as at the heights we keep on,

Learning where our hearts do truly belong.

 


The Wooded Realm Pt2

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2172854-the-wooded-realm-pt2.mp3]

 

Once again we wend through this written dream.
Revisiting our friend from the last scene.
Let’s reminisce on what we’ve not yet seen-
The history of this fey, marked queen.

 

A kingdom of light, reigned over by two:

A regent king and his fairy wife, true.

Though their love begat ten sweet little tykes,

Just one could be named; fate struck as it likes.

 

Born to rule by chance of mark, chosen one;

A babe’s life planned before it had begun.

This precocious girl, Ven, soon grew into

A wild young woman who saw her own view.

 

Not seeking to be bound by crown, Ven spoke –

“Queenly rainment I’ll not wear, I revoke

Your arrangements for my life, can’t you see

What misery you bestow upon me?!”

 

“Calm, child, settle,” said her aging father,

“This is your fate,” entreated her mother.

Both compelled, “This is not a simple game.

You were singled, marked, and were called by name!”

 

Who singled, what mark, what name, to what end?


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